Regret
by Cole224
Summary: Randy's sick. John's worried and a little bit angsty. onesided John Cena/Randy Orton,Orton/Batista.


This is slash. I've said it before, I do love Randy Orton. I hope WWE doesn't ruin his character with the new face turn…

I don't own John Cena, Randy Orton or Dave Batista.

"You alright?" John asked in concern as soon as he spotted Randy. He'd been looking for Randy since RAW had ended. He'd seen Randy briefly before his match and he'd been a little worried.

"Fine," Randy mumbled, voice hoarse. When he lifted his head to look at John, his eyes were slightly glazed.

"You sure look it," John said skeptically.

"I am fine," Randy said little stronger, moving to stand. John immediately moved forward and his heart picked up a little bit when Randy swayed and almost fell on his face.

"How long you been like this?" John asked, pushing him back down into a sitting position. Randy simply shrugged and went back to staring at the floor.

"You didn't think it would be a good idea to tell somebody?" John reached for Randy's bag and pulled out a shirt.

"Ted and Cody left," Randy said, lifting his head. There was a hint of a question in his eyes. John rolled his. Of course, Ted and Cody had left. Of course Randy hadn't mentioned to either of them that he was obviously sick.

"Maybe you should see a doctor," John commented when Randy didn't protest his help at getting the shirt on. He helped Randy to his feet.

"Dammit, Randy," he said when Randy leaned into him and John felt how hot he was. He supported most of Randy's weight as they made their way out of the arena, his concern only growing when Randy remained silent.

"You want me to call Dave?" He asked when they reached his car. The suggestion left a bad taste in his mouth and he tried not to feel relieved when Randy immediately straightened and shook his head.

"No! I'm-" He broke off with a coughing fit and John rolled his eyes again.

"Fine, right." John deposited Randy in the passenger seat. After closing the door, he pulled out his phone on his way around the car and sent Dave a quick text message anyways. John knew that Dave would call Randy soon anyways and he'd be either worried out of his mind if Randy didn't answer or he'd be able to tell something was wrong if Randy did answer. Besides, no matter what John felt about it, Dave deserved to know and he knew that, no matter what Randy said, he'd want Dave there.

John managed to get him back to the hotel and up to his room. Randy simply collapsed on top of the covers and John let out a sigh before he unlaced Randy's boots and pulled them and his knee pads off.

"Even my hair hurts." Randy pulled the covers on top of him and rolled onto his stomach.

"You don't have any hair." John used the moment to send another text to Dave, recommending he maybe pick up something for the flu.

"And it still hurts."

"But you're fine," John said sarcastically.

"Fuck you," Randy said into his pillow. He groaned and curled up on his side. "No, wait. Fuck _me_, man."

"Not my job anymore," John stated, unable to keep the concern out of his voice. He did manage to keep the regret out that always crept up when he thought about those days…

"Shit," Randy said, sitting up very suddenly, face pale. John managed to grab a trash can before Randy could hurl all over the bed and himself. John thought, as he sat with a holding Randy up so he could puke everything he'd eaten up in the last two days, that if this didn't prove, at least to himself, that he still really was in love with Randy Orton then nothing did.

He helped Randy lie down again and flushed the mess down the toilet. When he got back, Randy was sleeping, if not exactly peacefully. He wasn't sure how long he sat on the edge of the bed watching Randy sleep. When the knock came, he sighed and got up.

"He's asleep," John told Dave when he opened the door. Dave eyed him a moment before going into the room. John looked back at the two of them for a minute before he decided to stop torturing himself and walked out.

Dave didn't like him, he knew that. That was fine. John didn't particularly like Dave either. When Randy and Dave had first hooked up, he'd been a little worried. Dave had never seemed like the, well…_nicest _guy around. Randy had been the one to put that worry to rest because he knew that Randy would never put up with _that_ kind of shit from anyone. He knew how Randy was, knew that he'd drop Dave fast if he ever stepped over the line.

Besides, the dislike he felt for Dave was more than likely misplaced. It was his own fault that he wasn't in that room instead of Dave. He'd just have to go on living with that.


End file.
